


You Complete Me

by xagentofchaos



Series: Batjokes drabbles [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Dark Knight (2008)
Genre: Batjokes, Bloody Kisses, Engagement, Fluff, I Should Be Ashamed of Myself, M/M, Romance, Sappy, These Idiots, disgustingly good that is, for writing this sap, how in the world do you even write a romantic joker/bruce fanfic, i can't even begin to tell you how disgusting i feel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4069009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xagentofchaos/pseuds/xagentofchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An incredibly sappy date turns more sappy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Complete Me

**Author's Note:**

> I hate myself.

The smell of burnt cigarette lingered in the air, even if he personally preferred cigars. They had more taste to them, not just the toxics. He was leaning against his car on the grass, watching stars for some reason. Like a sappy romantic movie with the love of his life. Or something like that. 

Joker was fiddling with their fingers; intertwining them and so on. He wasn’t really watching the stars, he was more interested in trying to steal Bruce’s watch without him seeing. As Bruce caught him every time and twisted him down to the ground, Joker made it into some sort of game. A wrestling match. He always won since Joker surrenders, giggling non-stop and smooches Bruce’s face like he’s a baby. And then there are the kisses. Let’s not get too into that. 

Ugh, okay, let’s. 

Joker is all teeth and aggressive shoves, as he’s pressing his full body against Bruce’s. But he can also be quite… romantic. If that’s the right term for someone who’s using his skin like a canvas, painting pictures from blood when he bit down too hard; caressing his whole form in his arms. It doesn’t get more romantic than that. If he wanted full-blown romance with chocolate covered strawberries and rose petals, he’d make an account on match.com and look for middle aged women who liked to walk on the beach. 

He doesn’t want that. He wants to be hurt physically over and over again to later on be scooped into a par of comforting arms. 

Joker and comfort shouldn´t be used in the same sentence. But he doesn´t care. He’ll do it all his life because it’s true. _Joker gives him comfort, Joker gives him comfort, Joker gives him comfort._ He probably should’ve run the first chance he got but instead he stayed and got this: a fucking (whatever it is, a date?) stroll to a cliff to watch the stars. 

It’s not like he’s not doing illegal things by this time, so why _wouldn’t he_ get together with Gotham’s most dangerous person. Icing on the cake, etcetera. 

He feels Joker itch his wrist with slow but steady fingers, getting closer and closer to his expensive watch. He lets the man try for a while until he feels the watch separate from his skin and he wrestles Joker down on the ground, just like the last hundreds of times. But Joker doesn’t seem like he’s bored of the constant battle; in fact, he looks like he’s enjoying it more and more. 

Bruce is on top, straddling Joker down to the ground, clutching his collar between his fingers. Joker looks up at him with shining eyes, grinning wickedly and competitive even if he’s lost the game. Like always. Perhaps him giving into Joker’s ways is translated to him losing. Oh well. 

Joker tries to reach for his lips but Bruce keeps a safe distance between them both. Teasing the man underneath a bit more, smirking at the pout. He strokes Joker’s scars with his index finger, listening to the man purr. _I’m a weak man_ , he thinks as he ducks his head down to catch Joker’s lips between his teeth, biting down hard enough to draw blood. Joker growls into his mouth and forces Bruce’s head closer with his hands, closing their distance with a minimum. 

The kiss is not really a kiss; it’s more like a vampire role play. Sucking the blood out of each other, maiming and hurting one another as much as they could without murder. Just as regular as alcohol to an alcoholic and just as unhealthy. 

Joker continues biting and sucking on his skin when Bruce lies down completely, sighing softly into Joker’s neck. He giggles softly on the top of Bruce’s head. 

“Do you regret any?” Bruce whispers into the hole of Joker’s throat. 

“Regret what?” 

“Any murders.” 

Joker is silent for a second. “Now, if I’d regret any, why would I commit them in the first place, hmm?” Bruce can hear him licks his lips. 

“You can’t know in beforehand what you’re going to regret, though,” Bruce continues stubbornly. 

“I have my ways,” Joker answers softly. Bruce hums. It’s silent between them for a long while, apart from quirking crickets in the bushes. Bruce is thinking so loud that the screws in his brain rotate with an annoying sound, making Joker huff underneath him. “What do you want to know, Brucey?” 

“What are those ways?” he asks a bit too quickly for his taste. 

“What got you so interested in my killing routines, darling?” Joker giggles and pushes them both up in a sitting position; Bruce on his knees with Joker’s legs around them. 

He can feel a hot burn travel from his cheeks and down. At first he can’t place the odd sensation; he doesn’t know what it is and can’t go one from there to move on. Until he realizes, when seeing Joker stare at him with a horrendously big smile on his face, that he’s blushing. The alarming color must light up the whole world, as it feels like fire underneath the skin. 

“I want to do it with you,” he murmurs, feeling exposed from Joker’s gaze.

“We already have,” Joker giggles. “Several times.” Bruce gives him a look that almost assembles a death glare but it doesn’t work, Joker only giggles harder. That man is twelve years old in mind. 

“I mean killing.” 

Joker is quiet. He searches Bruce’s entire face but for what, Bruce can’ tell. After a moment of completely dead silence, he speaks again, this time with an expression Bruce have never seen before: uncertain. 

“Was that your way of asking for my hand at the altar?” 

There’s no joke in his voice. The madman in front of him is asking a sincere question. Bruce smiles.

“I guess,” he responds. 

At first, they’re just looking at each other, eating each other up with their eyes. But Joker is the one to make the first move, almost breaking his teeth in return, for crushing their mouths together again. It’s feverish and wild but not as toxic as the other meltdowns. He can taste the happy side of Joker through the kiss and it excites him.

“Was that your way of saying yes?” Bruce snickers between the minimum breathe breaks. 

“I guess,” Joker mimics and Bruce snorts. 

Oh and how ironic isn’t this. He’s getting married. With a twisted, psychotic clown that not only kills people for fun, but also likes to dance to songs by Lady Gaga and Beyoncé. He couldn’t be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> I love myself.


End file.
